


Your Kiss and I Will Surrender

by saint_vulgaris



Category: Call of Duty (Video Games)
Genre: Accents, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drinking, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, I need them to be happy at all times okay, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Military, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Overuse of italics, POV Multiple, Rating May Change, Reunions, Slow To Update, Swearing, also watch me pretend like I know how the military works, bc I’m a sucker for them getting back together if it wasn’t obvious lmfao, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:55:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27262339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saint_vulgaris/pseuds/saint_vulgaris
Summary: In an alternate timeline, Yuri, Soap, and Price come up with a plan to convince Makarov to surrender. They manage to pull it off, but things are far from over for Task Force 141...-Hiatus until inspiration for it strikes again :(
Relationships: Vladimir Makarov/Yuri (Modern Warfare 3)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 23





	1. Radio Silence

**Author's Note:**

> Ya girl’s attempting to write a full fic!! Unfortunately I only have a few ideas for the plot and events so I’m not sure how good it’s gonna be.. But as always, I hope you enjoy it! <3

“Do you understand the mission, Yuri?” Captain Price asks.

Yuri nods. “Convince Makarov to surrender.”

”Correct. Let’s go over the plan once more.

”You, Soap, and I will be going it alone. Makarov is at the top floor of this building here—“ he points out said location on the map before continuing “—and I’ll be on the roof of the building beside it, ready to snipe the bastard if he tries anything.”

Soap grins at the last statement. Price returns the smile with a nod, signalling for the Scotsman to recall his and Yuri’s role.

”Yer going to be unarmed,” he informs Yuri. “However, you’ll be wearing a wire. I’ll be going with ye as far as the border, then I’ll be joining Price. But are ye sure this is gonna work?”

”Yes,” Yuri affirms. “If I know Makarov, he’d want to kill me personally. I’m sure his men will take me to him immediately.”

”Good to know,” Price speaks up. “As soon as you get to the entrance, surrender. Don’t bother with dramatics, just tell the muppets you want to see your old friend.” Yuri notes the bitter tone in his voice; it’s clear he still doesn’t trust the Russian. “Soap and I will have a clear vantage point, so signal to us if he starts acting out and we’ll take him down. Are we clear?”

”We’re clear.”

”Then let’s get bloody to it.”

* * *

Getting in was even easier than Yuri—or any of them, really—had anticipated.

He gave them the ‘I surrender’ story, assured them he was unarmed, and now he’s being hauled off by two guards straight to Vladimir Makarov himself. He wonders why they didn’t frisk him and just took his word. _Well, it got me in,_ Yuri thinks. _Not my problem if they’re incompetent, I guess._

One of the guards knocks on the door, receiving a simple “Enter”. They do so, throwing Yuri to the floor. He stays down while examining his surroundings.

They’re in what seems to be an office. Yuri can see the building Price and Soap are on through the windows on the back wall. To his left and right are large, dark-wood bookshelves. The entire room is varying shades of dark brown, and in the middle, a large desk Makarov sits behind. His eyes widen momentarily as he recognizes Yuri, before his face quickly falls back into his usual scowl.

One of the guards attempts a small joke. “Look what the cat dragged in, Boss.”

”Stand up, Yuri.” Makarov gets out of the chair, his voice ice cold. He looks at his subordinates. “Leave us. Close the door and don’t let anyone in.”

”But, sir–“

_“Get out.”_

They don’t need to be told twice. Yuri gets up as the two hurry out and close the door as ordered.

Makarov’s two-toned eyes fix themselves on Yuri’s face. “Drop your weapons and tell your friends to do the same.”

”I’m unarmed. It’s just me.”

Makarov keeps staring at Yuri, his eyes narrowing at the other’s chest.

”Take off the wire, Yuri,” he says.

 _Shit._ “You know I can’t–“

 _“Take it off and put it on the desk,”_ Makarov orders, in the tone he usually reserved for his subordinates. “If I can’t destroy it, I at least want it where I can see it.”

Knowing Captain Price would kill him if he went along with the other man’s whims without any arguments, Yuri attempts a compromise. “I will if you put your weapons on the desk, too.”

Makarov does so slowly, placing his knife and Desert Eagle on the desk. It’s obvious to Yuri that he’s wary of snipers. _Smart man.  
_

“Take it off,” he repeats for the third time.

Yuri nods, removing the wire. He notes the other man’s eyes never leave his chest. He puts it on the desk as demanded, leaving it on, and the two Russian’s eyes meet again.

They stand silently on opposite sides of the desk before Makarov speaks. “You aren’t here to surrender, are you?”

Yuri shakes his head ‘no’. Of course the other man knows the truth.

”Why are you here, my friend?” He asks, uncharacteristically softly.

”You know why,” Yuri answers calmly. “To negotiate your surrender.”

Makarov snorts. “I see. So Captain Price wants to kill me himself.”

Yuri can’t deny that, but that isn’t what he meant. “That’s not it. I’m just here to talk to you.”

”So _now_ you want to talk to me.” The terrorist is visibly trying to keep his anger in check. “Why? Aren’t you just going to hand me over to the government again?”

 _Ah. He’s still pissed about the airport mission._ “I’m not ‘handing you over' to anyone. And besides that, you never would have listened if I tried to–“

”You could’ve stayed behind!” Makarov’s voice raises slightly. “Do you really think I would’ve forced you along?”

”Makarov, you need to calm down right now–“

 _“No!”_ The other shouts, slamming a hand onto the desk. He always gave into rage so easily. “I trusted you, and you fucking betrayed me!”

”You’re acting like a child!” Yuri shouts back, trying to get through to Makarov.

”I loved you!”

Yuri’s eyes widen. He’s stunned into silence by the other man’s words, and he imagines Price and Soap are as well on the other end of the line. However, Makarov’s just getting started.

”You were the only person who ever respected me aside from Zakhaev,” he hisses. “My only friend. The only person I never wanted to hurt.”

”Then why did you try to kill me?” Yuri asks angrily.

”Why did you betray me?” Makarov shoots back.

”You were murdering innocents! Thirty thousand lives gone in the blink of an eye, and you don’t even flinch. And you didn’t stop there. Makarov, you slaughtered your own people.”

”All is fair in war, Yuri,” the terrorist replies coldly. “Russia needs to be–“

_“Vladimir.”_

Makarov is thrown off by Yuri’s use of his first name. Yuri puts both hands on the other’s shoulders. “This is not a war you’re fighting. It’s madness; nothing more than pure annihilation.” The other opens his mouth but Yuri silences him. “Listen to me. I never wanted this to happen. I wanted to stay by your side. If you surrender now, we can go back to how it used to be. You won’t be shot if you just _calm the fuck down_ and talk to me.”

Makarov seems to be making an effort to calm himself down, breathing deeply and remaining silent. He shrugs Yuri’s hands off and walks around the desk until he’s standing directly in front of the other man. Once again, they stare at each other in silence.

This time Yuri speaks first, choosing his words carefully. “Can we talk now?”

Makarov nods after a few seconds. “Sit on the floor.”

Yuri follows his odd request, and the two sit side by side on the carpet with their backs against the desk. He looks at the other man; Makarov’s jaw is clenched and he stares at the door.

”What happens if I surrender?” He asks quietly.

”You will be kept in 141’s custody. I told them not to hurt you,” Yuri adds quickly. “I’ll be there with you as well, as a guard. But like I said, we can go back to the way it used to be.”

Makarov weighs his words. “I’m not going to prison,” he says, more of a question than a statement.

Yuri smiles. “In a way, no. But you won’t be walking around free, either.”

”Naturally. Do I get any terms of surrender?”

”Depends on what they are.”

”I don’t want to be executed.” Makarov pauses before continuing. “And I want you to stay with me. I meant it when I said I loved you.”

”I think that can be arranged,” Yuri replies, blushing slightly and adding, “in hindsight, I might have loved you, too.”

Their eyes meet again, and a genuine smile washes over Makarov’s face. “So it’s been settled, then.”

Yuri nods, returning the smile. “Now I just need to hear it from you.”

The other takes a deep breath, his face falling. Yuri’s worried Makarov won’t say it and they’ll have to kill him, right when they’re so close to being reunited.

Then he says it, the two most beautiful words in the English language to Yuri at that moment: “I surrender.”

Yuri is so relieved he hugs Makarov.

_Mission complete._


	2. Sitcom Two-Parter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the weird ending, but with the stuff I had planned for this chapter it would’ve been way too long imo, so chapter 3 is a direct continuation of 2, hence the chapter title. As of oct 29, ch 3 is currently being worked on but I’m not sure when it’ll be finished :’)  
> Also Price is not a villain in this story, but he’ll be portrayed as one when it’s Makarov’s POV since they hate each other.

Makarov is silent from the moment he and Yuri step outside.

After he officially surrendered, he ordered everyone in the building to drop their weapons and do the same. He misses his gun already; it was a birthday present from Zakhaev.

They exit together, and Yuri, with a hand in the middle of his shoulders, tells Makarov to raise his own. Wordlessly, he does so.

As soon as Captain Price shows up, it’s all over. Everything he worked for will crumble into oblivion.

His ideals, given up for a reunion with the only person he ever loved. _So all it takes is the will of a single man to bring me down,_ Makarov bitterly muses.

After a while, Price and Soap arrive. Price is saying something the terrorist isn’t listening to, and in that moment Makarov decides to take a temporary vow of silence out of spite for the Englishman. Yuri can speak for him instead.

Soap frisks Makarov and it takes every ounce of control in his body not to strangle the Captain. Instead, he obediently keeps his arms raised and satisfies his contempt with a death glare at Soap. The Scotsman returns it, telling the Russian to put his arms down. Yuri, mumbling an apology, puts a pair of handcuffs on his friend’s wrists, gently placing his hand on Makarov’s back again. He finds some comfort in the gesture and decides to focus only on Yuri for the remainder of this little adventure.

On their way to the landing zone, Yuri discreetly asks if Makarov’s okay.

He shakes his head.

* * *

In the helicopter, Yuri very intelligently seats himself and Makarov as far away from Price as possible. It’s obvious the two would be at each other’s throats the whole time, and Yuri’s just as dedicated to keeping his friend alive as the man himself is.

Makarov supposes he’s grateful for that, still focusing entirely on the Russian man beside him. Currently, his friend is letting him gently squeeze his hand to calm himself down, and thankfully, the other two haven’t noticed yet. Yuri was always good at secrecy.

Makarov wonders why Yuri forgave him so easily. Of course, this whole thing could be an act. _I could be on my way to my execution right now, and my last words would be ‘I surrender’. I’m sorry, Zakhaev._

“I promise you’re okay.” As if he read his mind, Yuri whispers reassurance in Russian. Makarov glances at Soap and Price, and luckily the two are engaged in their own conversation. The terrorist doesn’t care what about. He eases his grip on Yuri’s hand, realizing how hard he was squeezing in his agitation.

Still in Russian, Yuri asks him: “Are you not going to talk for the whole ride?”

Makarov shakes his head. Yuri smiles slightly.

”Don’t worry,” he says. “There will be plenty of opportunities for you two to yell at each other.”

The two share a small laugh, and Makarov accidentally catches Price’s eye. The Russian quickly looks away, glaring at the floor, and the Captain is about to say something before Soap puts a hand on the man’s shoulder with a quiet “easy there, old man. No fights ‘til we get back tae base.” Since he’s too busy cussing the other man out in his mind, Makarov doesn’t hear Price’s reply.

For the rest of the ride home, the helicopter is permeated by an awkward silence.

Makarov prefers it that way.


	3. Quarantine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2: electric boogaloo  
> I’m sorry for how short this is! since the majority of stuff I write is one shots I have no idea how long chapters should be haha
> 
> Edit Nov 16, 2020: I was rereading the rough draft and apparently I skipped an entire line when I published this chapter??? Wowee

The reality of his decision hits Makarov like a ton of bricks once the four set foot on the base. _It’s all gone now. I’m a fucking idiot._

At least he still has Yuri. His friend’s hand is replaced in the middle of Makarov’s shoulders, doubling as both grounding the man and guiding him to his new home.

Or perhaps ‘prison’ is a more accurate description, for both 141’s base and wherever Makarov’s going to be held.

The building is unremarkable, and since he’ll most likely be spending his time isolated, he doesn’t pay attention to details. Thankfully, on their way to Makarov’s room, Yuri volunteers to take him there himself since the former trusts him. Price and Soap agree, leaving the duo to their own devices.

”There, he’s gone,” Yuri jokes once the two are out of earshot. “You can talk now.”

Makarov grins, deciding it’s time to break his vow of silence. “Perhaps I don’t want to.”

”Ah, so he _can_ still speak!” The other laughs. “I thought I was also getting the silent treatment.”

”Of course not. But I knew if I wasn’t quiet, I’d say something that would get me killed.”

”You know I wouldn’t let that happen.” Yuri gestures to a door on their left. “By the way, we’re here.”

He opens the door, and the two step in the room. Makarov was right to call it a prison.

The room is furnished with a bed that has white everything, and he’s thankful for a small wooden dresser. There’s a single lamp in the room pushed to the far left corner, and no windows; probably to prevent escape.

”Do I get an inmate number too?” Makarov quips.

Yuri laughs. “If you really want one. Sorry about the size.”

”It’s fine.” Makarov sits on the bed, then looks at his friend. “Can you stay with me for a while?”

Yuri nods and shuts the door, sitting beside the other man. Makarov rests his head on Yuri’s shoulder, and the two sit in comfortable silence. A part of the former terrorist hates himself for appearing vulnerable, and his fears that Yuri’s just manipulating him resurface; though perhaps that’s a fair punishment considering Makarov did the same. _All’s fair in love and war, right?_

“You’re still tense,” Yuri comments. “They aren’t going to execute you, I promise.”

Another thing bothers Makarov and he blurts it out. “How did you forgive me so quickly?”

”I haven’t fully forgiven you yet. You _did_ leave me to die in a parking lot.”

Yuri laughs when his friend doesn’t respond. “However,” he continues, “maybe you can try to redeem yourself.”

”How would I do that?”

”You could help track down enemies. Who better to find terrorists than a former one himself?”

Makarov weighs his words. “Maybe, but I’m not giving you any promises.”

Yuri smiles, wrapping an arm around the other man in a one-armed hug. “That’s fine. You could also try not to provoke Captain Price. If you can’t do that, just nod or shake your head when he asks you questions.”

Makarov nods, laughing. “That one, I can do.”

"See?" Yuri grins. "You're already halfway there."

In the small room, the two Russians share a laugh and a hug. Makarov realizes he misses moments like this, and is grateful to have them back.

After a few minutes, Yuri stands up. “You should get some rest now. I have to talk to the others.”

Makarov nods, his mood slightly lowering again. “Alright. Good night, Yuri.”

His friend gives him a smile. “Good night, Vladimir.”

He shuts the door, and Makarov is alone. The man gets up and turns the light off before getting into his bed. He knows he won’t be able to sleep tonight, but he might as well try. Then it dawns on him:

_Yuri used my first name again._


	4. Interview With a Brick Wall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer's block punched me in the throat lol, enjoy Price and Makarov bitching at each other  
> Also sorry if I got the Russian wrong! I don't speak it and had to go googling everywhere so if it's wrong I apologize :')

"Ye sure ye can handle this alone, Price?" Soap asks.

"Are you doubting me?" The Captain responds.

"Of course not. I just want to be sure ye won't kill each other."

Price snorts, grinning at the other. "Sounds like you're worried about me, Soap. You know I can handle the bastard. Besides, Yuri will be waiting outside if things go south."

The Scotsman pats him on the back. "Our fearless leader," he says, grinning back. "Good luck in there, old man."

* * *

Price and Yuri agreed on interrogating— _interviewing,_ the Russian stressed—Makarov in a separate room with the two seated on opposite sides of a table. Price arrives first, so he sits down at the empty table and waits for the two Russians.

Although he also had to take the man to get ready in the morning, Yuri mentioned something about wanting to "make sure Makarov was calm enough to talk to him", so they might be a few minutes late. Price doesn't ask for details. If it makes his life easier, he doesn't care.

After he's done taking his friend to the showers and whatnot, Yuri arrives with the former criminal in tow. Price notes with a hint of spiteful triumph that Makarov looks like shit. He has dark circles under his slightly glassy eyes, indicating the man barely slept last night, and his permanent death stare isn't doing him any favours. The Russian is dressed in a simple, white button-up shirt and black pants and shoes with his hands cuffed in front of him. If Price didn't know any better, he'd think Makarov was an overworked office clerk on his way to jail.

Yuri sits him down on the opposite side of the table before asking Price, "Are you sure you do not need me in here?"

The Englishman nods. "I promise we'll be fine, Yuri. I just want to ask him some questions."

The former nods back, placing a hand on Makarov's shoulder. "Don't start any fights, okay?" He murmurs to his friend. Price can't tell if he's joking or not. _Probably not._

The prisoner instantly tenses when Yuri leaves and closes the door. Like yesterday, he's silent and he won't look Price in the eye.

Price breaks the silence. "I'm sure this isn't how you imagined things going, huh?"

Makarov's eyes narrow but he doesn't answer, just shakes his head 'no'.

"Are you still not speaking to me?"

The Russian grits his teeth.

Price rolls his eyes. "Are you still so paranoid you think I'm going to kill you after this?" He shakes his head in disbelief. "And here I thought you couldn't feel human emotions."

 _"Trakhat' tebya,"_ Makarov retorts, finally meeting the other man's eyes.

Said man crosses his arms, glaring back at the Russian. "I'm glad you're talking, but I'd appreciate it if you spoke in English."

"You know damn well what I said."

"Why are you so bloody confrontational? I'm sure Yuri's told you a thousand times now we're not going to execute you. I'm just going to ask you a few questions, and I can't do that if you're going to keep acting so-"

"I am _not_ acting like a child," the Russian cuts him off, his tone icy. "I have reason to believe that even though you may not execute me, you're still going to hurt me, so forgive me if I'm justifiably paranoid."

 _Is he afraid of pain?_ Price can't help wondering. _Punishment, maybe?_ Either way, he lashes back: "We're not going to hurt you! For god's sake, I'm not you."

Apparently that struck a nerve. Or several.

Makarov stands up, his cuffed hands curling into fists. "You mean to tell me you've never once tortured a prisoner?" He replies sharply. "Funny. I seem to remember my men coming back still picking their teeth up off the ground."

Price was going to ask him if he remembered prisoner 627, but decides on a different question instead: "Didn't Yuri tell you not to start any fights?"

"Don't bring him into this." The Russian speaks rapidly, almost sounding defensive. The Captain isn't surprised; he did hear Makarov's confession through the wire the day he surrendered, after all.

Price takes a deep breath. "Fine. Now sit back down so we can get this over with."

"No," Makarov replies simply. "We're done."

"You don't get to-"

"We both know this is pointless. I'm going back to my cell."

Price almost wants to correct the man—it's a room he's staying in—but since Makarov's infuriatingly right and the Captain's already tired of arguing with him, he calls Yuri in.

Yuri reads the room immediately, and with an apologetic look at Price, guides Makarov out with a hand on his back. Price waits a few minutes to calm himself down, then leaves the room. Soap is waiting for him in the hall.

"I take it it went poorly?" The Scotsman asks.

Price nods. "Slimy Russian bastard."

Soap puts a hand on the other's shoulder. "C'mon, old man. Let's get ye a drink."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRANSLATION(S)  
> Trakhat' tebya = fuck you


	5. The King is Dethroned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer's block is still kicking my ass so sorry about the short chapter :,) it's very indulgent btw sorry kids (nothing NSFW lol)

Makarov doesn't say a single word to Yuri on the walk back to his room. Yuri mirrors his friend's silence, knowing that pushing him to speak would only make things worse. _Let him come to you first,_ Yuri tells himself.

He moves his hand to gently massage the back of the other man's neck, remembering the gesture usually calmed him down. Sure enough, some of the tension in Makarov's shoulders lessens slightly.

They stop in front of the prisoner's door. Instead of unlocking it, Yuri tells his friend he isn't mad at him, hoping his words don't set the other off.

Makarov apologizes anyway. "You specifically told me not to start a fight," he says.

"In your defense," Yuri jokes, "you have never been good at following orders."

His friend snorts a laugh, a small smile appearing on his face. He nods towards the door. "Are you going to open it?"

Yuri pauses for a moment, then decides: "No. I'm going to take you to my room instead."

"Can you do that?" Makarov asks, an almost bewildered look on his face.

"I don't see why not. Besides," Yuri adds, "I don't want you to be alone today."

"Thank you, Yuri. Lead the way."

* * *

Naturally, Yuri's room is bigger than Makarov's; he has a slightly larger bed, dresser, windows, and a desk pushed to the far wall. Yuri gestures for his friend to sit down on the bed, and he does so, staring out the window.

Yuri sits beside Makarov. "I'm sorry there are no windows in your room."

His friend shrugs. "It's most likely so I won't escape."

"True, but it would be good for you to see outside. It might help your fears."

Makarov looks at him, obviously surprised Yuri could see through him so easily. "I'm not afraid," he says, still denying his anxiety like always.

Yuri raises an eyebrow. "My friend, you've been paranoid since yesterday. You know you can tell me if something's bothering you."

Makarov hesitates before confiding: "I hate being at someone else's mercy. I can't shake the feeling that this is all an act and you're going to kill me."

"I promised you I wouldn't let that happen," Yuri replies softly, pulling the other man into a hug. "But if you don't mind me asking, why are you so afraid of being killed?"

"Because if I were in their place, that's what I would do."

Yuri's not sure how to respond. He's never been able to fully understand Makarov's behaviour, especially now; he's calm—for Makarov—around Yuri, but he acts like a wild dog around Price and Soap.

All of sudden Yuri figures it out: "You're scared because you have no power anymore."

"Congratulations, you got it right," Makarov huffs, burying his face in Yuri's shoulder.

"Are you-"

"I'm fine."

 _No, you're not,_ Yuri thinks, but he knows better than to argue with the man when he's like this. In a way he's proud of his friend for admitting weakness, even if it took him around twenty years to do so.

Yuri gently rubs Makarov's back, wondering what he'll have to do to convince his friend that Price won't hurt him (without a reason).

If the man's past of being notoriously stubborn is any indication, it's gonna take a hell of a long time.


	6. Two of a Kind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the long wait and most likely bad ending :') this also takes place after chapter 4, and has a funky new perspective 😎

In the rec room, Soap grabs two beers for himself and Price. He hands the Captain one, sitting down beside him on the couch.

Price takes a sip, sighing. "I dunno how Yuri puts up with that bastard."

"He's got the patience of a saint," Soap remarks. "What exactly happened there, anyway?"

"He still thinks we're gonna kill him. Not even ten minutes passed and he walked out." Price snorts. "You'd think he's scared of us or something."

"Every man has his weakness, I guess," Soap replies with a shrug.

"The man who's killed over thirty thousand people is afraid of pain and death?"

"If we understood him, we wouldn't be here drinking right now, would we?"

Price laughs. "Amen." He raises his bottle in a 'cheers' to Soap. "To being the only sane men in this place."

"Aye, lad." The Scotsman laughs too, clinking his bottle with his friend's before they both take a drink.

It's been forever since the two were able to relax like this, Soap muses, no doubt thanks to their plan. The Scotsman is incredibly thankful for Yuri's help; without him, Makarov would still be making their lives hell. _Now he's only making the old man's life hell,_ Soap jokes to himself.

He finds his mind wandering to thoughts of Ghost and Roach and his mood immediately drops. He misses his friends dearly; if only they could be here to celebrate Makarov's surrender with Price and him. With a sigh, he takes another sip of his beer.

"What's the matter?" Price asks the Scotsman.

"Ah, sorry." Soap gives his friend a sad smile. "I keep thinking about Ghost and Roach. I wish they knew we succeeded."

Price puts a comforting hand on the other's shoulder. "It's alright. I know the feeling, mate." He cracks a smile and a small joke, hoping to lighten Soap's mood: "At least Shepherd's burning in hell right now, thanks to you, eh?"

Soap chuckles. "I'll drink to that." He does so before continuing, "part of me wonders if there's some chance they're still alive."

Price takes a drink as well. "You never know. Those two were resilient little buggers."

Soap bursts out laughing, grateful for his friend. He always admired Price's ability to calmly assess any situation, as well as the man's confidence both on and off the battlefield. The Englishman is a natural leader.

Soap can't help wondering if Ghost and Roach thought of him the same way.


	7. Take Him Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's official. also holy shit an update that didn't take like two weeks  
> Unrelated but what if I retconned some certain people dying? (I'm sure you can guess who lmao) idk I'm not sure if it would be bad writing or not so leave your input maybe. though let's be fair this whole thing is bad writing fsdgkhs  
> Edit: hi I just realized Makarov can't hug Yuri bc he's handcuffed. I am a fool

Two days after they failed to interview Makarov, Yuri approaches Captain Price with a request.

"Do you mind if I come in?" The Russian asks, standing in the doorway to Price's office.

The Englishman nods, gesturing for him to enter. "Of course not. Is something the matter?"

"No; I just have a question." Yuri sits down in one of the chairs in front of Price's desk. "Would it be alright to take Makarov for a walk? Outside the base?"

Price looks at Yuri as if he had lobsters crawling out of his ears. "You can't be serious."

"I'd keep him handcuffed," the Russian quickly replies. "Besides, I think it would be good for him to be in nature for a while. It might ease his paranoia."

The Captain doesn't respond, and Yuri hopes he doesn't sound too desperate, or like he's trying to manipulate Price. He knows the man still doesn't fully trust him; he probably believes Yuri's planning to escape with Makarov.

Finally, Price lets out a sigh. "Okay, fine. But if you're not back within an hour, Soap and I are going after you. Armed," he adds.

Yuri smiles. "Fair enough. Thank you, Captain."

* * *

"I can't believe he's letting us do this," Makarov remarks, staring at the sky.

The base they all stay in is encircled by a forest, with plenty of small clearings scattered throughout. In Yuri's opinion it's quite beautiful, and he hopes the scenery will help calm his friend. The two walk through one of the little fields, enjoying the warm weather.

Yuri chuckles. "I'm surprised myself. I was so sure he would say no." He looks at Makarov before continuing: "Is this helping you feel any better?"

"It is, honestly. It's nice to be alone with you."

The former isn't quite sure how to respond; Makarov showing any sort of affection still throws him off. Yuri just gives him a smile, wraps his arm around his friend's shoulders, and says, "I'm glad."

The two continue on in comfortable silence, arriving in a forested area again and sitting down on some large rocks. A rustling in the trees is heard behind them; Makarov flinches and whirls around before turning back, letting out a huff.

"Are you alright?" A concerned Yuri asks.

"I hate being on edge all the damn time," his friend grumbles.

Yuri gently massages the back of Makarov's neck. "I don't blame you. Just remember you're safe with me, okay?"

"I know." He pauses before continuing. "I wonder if they'd let us train out here."

"You want to fistfight me in a forest?"

Makarov snorts a laugh. "Of course not. If anything, I want to fistfight _Price_ in a forest."

Yuri laughs, giving the other a hug. "Well, if we stay here any longer, you may get to."

Makarov laughs as well. "How much longer do we have, anyway?"

"Around fifteen minutes," Yuri replies after checking his watch. "We should probably head back now."

"Before we do, I want to ask you something."

Confused, Yuri asks, "is something wrong?"

Their eyes meet as Makarov shakes his head. "No, I…" He takes a deep breath before starting over. "Do you love me, Yuri?"

Yuri's eyes widen, his face reddening slightly. He doesn't know how to answer at first but eventually, he decides on the truth. "I do, but why do you ask?"

"Because I love you, too." His friend has a small smile on his face. "You're always giving me hugs and you call me by my first name. I wanted to know if the feeling was mutual."

Yuri can't help but smile back. As unfitting as the descriptor usually is for his friend, Makarov is being fairly adorable right now.

"Then let's make it official." Yuri holds Makarov's shackled hands. "I love you, Vladimir."

The other man grins. "I love you too, Yuri."

Hidden away from sight, and minutes before they have to return to the base, the couple share their first kiss under the shade of the grove.


	8. 24 Hours To Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will I ever stop projecting onto Makarov? Hell no let's give him insomnia too  
> This chapter was fun to write! It might read a bit oddly bc I wanted to sorta emulate racing thoughts??? I also had no clue what to title it so I just stole a lyric from "I Wanna Be Sedated" by Ramones lmao

Makarov can't sleep. Again.

It's not like this is a recent occurrence, either; he remembers being prescribed sleeping pills as a teenager. Since he doubted they'd let him have hypnotic drugs in his current situation, he tried the military method of relaxing his entire body and repeating "don't think, don't think" like a mantra, which failed almost instantly. Finally, he gave up and decided to just stare blankly at the wall and let his mind race.

 _This is ridiculous,_ he thinks, frustrated with himself. _I'm forty-six and I'm_ still _an insomniac. What the hell is wrong with me?_

He already knows the answer, however: he wants to sleep with Yuri. To sleep _beside_ Yuri, he corrects himself upon realizing the double entendre, though he'd be lying if he said he didn't want the more suggestive meaning as well. 

He feels his face grow warm and forces himself to think about something else. No matter how enticing the thought is, he's still positive there's a hidden camera somewhere in his room.

Makarov finds himself wondering if Anatoly and Viktor caught wind of his surrender, as the two were in a safehouse that day.

 _I imagine they're just about furious with me,_ he chuckles to himself. The two in question weren't very bright, in Makarov's opinion, but they were loyal to a fault. He wouldn't be surprised if they planned some sort of search-and-rescue party for their former boss.

Growing bored of the wall, he turns on his back and stares at the ceiling. Since there's no clock in his room he isn't sure what time it is, though perhaps he's better off not knowing. If he wasn't trying to think himself to sleep he'd go looking for the hidden camera. Perhaps he'll ask Yuri to help him look for it tomorrow.

Once again his mind latches onto thoughts of his new lover. If his door wasn't locked from the outside—and if he remembered how to get there—he'd head to Yuri's room and ask if he could sleep next to him. The tattooed man always had a calming effect on Makarov and he's certain his insomnia could be cured if they were together at night.

Deciding to bring it up with Yuri tomorrow as well, Makarov rolls back on his side and closes his eyes, attempting to fall asleep once again.

He's successful, after about thirty minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I write shitposty chapter summaries before I write the Actual Chapter and one of the lines for this was "bitch you're not jacking off while you're held prisoner go the fuck to sleep" and that was very funny at 2am so I'm sharing it with y'all haha


	9. Sage and Pesticide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nobody said not to so I'm playing god lmfao. This entire chapter has made me realize I don't know to spell 'sergeant' :')  
> Also! I finally started planning out chapters and we have up to chapter 17 figured out!! now I just have to get off my ass and finish them fskggd

He has no idea how they survived both bullet wounds and immolation, though he supposes he's been through worse. The bullshit in Mexico comes to mind.

The two men kept joking that they were only alive due to the irony of their callsigns: Ghost and Roach, respectively.

One already dead, and the other able to survive in the worst conditions possible. They made quite a team.

They'd been living in Makarov's old safehouse ever since General Shepherd attempted to murder them, taking care of each other's wounds while they tried to find a way to a hospital. As soon as he was strong enough, Roach worked tirelessly at the computer to get them help; it was to the point Ghost had to remind him to rest most days.

He always liked the Sergeant. Roach's optimism easily countered Ghost's more solemn nature in all the best ways. Unsurprisingly, he's typing away while Ghost sits beside him, reading one of Makarov's books.

Roach stretches his arms out, simultaneously cracking his knuckles. He spins his chair around to Ghost. "I can't focus anymore," he says. "What are you reading?"

Ghost shows him the cover. "Some sort of Russian poetry book."

The other man hums. "It's a wonder we can still speak English, eh?"

"Too right, mate. At this point we might as well be Russian ourselves."

"Alright." Roach claps his hands together. "Russian words pop quiz: go."

Ghost raises an eyebrow and says the first word that comes to mind: _"Sobaka."_

"Dog."

"Very good. Don't tell Soap."

Roach chuckles. "Your turn: _drug."_

"Friend," Ghost answers, smiling under his balaclava.

"That's right! You're a good one, too."

The Lieutenant snickers. _"Debil."_

"Hey!" Roach exclaims, grinning. "Last time I try to be nice to you."

The two laugh, briefly forgetting their circumstances until Roach winces, instinctively clutching his stomach.

"Are you alright?" A concerned Ghost asks.

Roach nods. "Fuckin' bullet. I hate not being able to laugh."

Ghost places a hand on the Sergeant's shoulder. "I haven't had a look at it today. Let's get you some new bandages, yeah?"

* * *

In the bathroom, Roach sits on the ledge of the bathtub and peels his shirt off. Ghost makes a point of ignoring what's in the tub behind Roach. It still weirds him out and the two men have an unspoken agreement not to talk about it.

Ghost gently unwraps the bandages, studying the wound. Unfortunately, they weren't able to remove the bullet for fear of Roach bleeding out. Luckily it's healing pretty well, under the circumstances. He dampens a towel, gently cleaning the wound, before pulling out the first-aid kit.

"I have to tell you something," Roach says suddenly.

The Lieutenant takes out a new bandage. "Go ahead."

The other pauses. "I've… been kind of hiding something from you. And don't worry," he adds, "it's not about the- y'know." He nods his head behind him.

_"Roach."_

The Sergeant snickers. "Sorry. Couldn't resist."

Ghost chuckles, wrapping the bandage around Roach's abdomen and covering the wound. "A likely story, you dunce." He hands the other man his shirt back before continuing, "so what're you hiding from me?"

"I haven't been trying to contact a hospital," Roach admits, putting his shirt back on. "I've been trying to contact Captain Price."

The Lieutenant stares at the Sergeant, his eyebrow raising. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought you'd think I was being childish."

"I wish you told me right away." Ghost pats Roach's head. "I think it's a good idea, bug. Have you had any luck?"

Roach shakes his head. "Not yet, but I'm gonna keep trying."

"Atta boy." Ghost smiles even though the other man can't see it. "Why don't we go try again?"

Roach grins. "If you didn't have a 'no touching' rule I'd give you a hug."

"Just for you, I'll break it. One time only."

The Sergeant doesn't need to be told twice. Ghost even hugs him back.

As they head back into the main room, Roach pipes up: "Did you know he has two of them?"

"Gary, I swear to god."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRANSLATION(S)  
> Sobaka = dog  
> Drug = friend  
> Debil = moron


	10. A Reluctant Compromise and an Unlikely Truce

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of long chapter?? I think????  
> Also just in case: if it seems like I'm portraying Makarov's paranoia too flippantly, that's not my intention at all; it's just my writing style. Sorta TMI but I struggle with rampant paranoia myself so I know just how much of a nuisance it is :') I'm sorry if this was unnecessary, and thank y'all for reading my shit ❤

"A hidden camera?"

Makarov nods, completely serious. At this point Yuri should be used to his lover's paranoid beliefs, but the man keeps finding new ways to keep him on his toes.

"I know I sound idiotic," he says, "but I keep feeling like someone's watching me. Besides, I _am_ a prisoner."

Yuri gives Makarov a hug. "There isn't one, I promise. Is that why you aren't sleeping?"

"That, and I want to sleep in the same room as you."

Yuri can't help but smile at that. "That's actually really sweet. Why don't we go ask if you can?"

"Thank you." Makarov kisses his cheek. "I'll try to be civil."

"There's a first time for everything," Yuri jokes.

* * *

In Price's office once again, Yuri explains the situation.

The Captain raises an eyebrow. "I can assure you there's no camera, Makarov. I don't need to know every little thing you get up to."

The man in question appears relieved. He's still not speaking to the Englishman, but he kept his word to be on his best behaviour, Yuri happily notes.

The Russian then asks, "so is it alright to be in the same room?"

"I'm going to say no, only because I don't trust him walking around by himself." When Makarov bristles, Price raises a hand, adding, "it's not anything personal. You're still a prisoner."

Said prisoner actually speaks, surprising Yuri. "Fine. Do you have any sleeping pills I can take instead, then?"

"I'm not giving you drugs, either." Price quickly contemplates a solution before finding one: "We have a library. Why don't you find a book to read when you can't sleep?"

Makarov is displeased, but he reluctantly nods. Yuri's proud of him for not snapping. He then speaks for the other Russian: "Why don't we head there now? Where is it, again?"

"Down the hall and past the corner; it's the first door on your right. Good luck, you two."

They thank Price—Makarov giving him a nod instead of speaking—and head to the library.

* * *

Soap is organizing the books when the door opens, startling him. He turns around to see Yuri and Makarov. As always, Yuri has a hand on the prisoner's back.

The Scotsman puts a book back in its place on the shelf before walking over. "What's up?"

"Hi, Soap," Yuri says with a smile. Makarov, however, looks around the room in silence, which the others expect. "We were looking for a book for Vladimir to read for when he can't sleep."

Not questioning Yuri's use of his first name, the Scotsman makes an attempt to be friendly to the prisoner. "Insomniac, eh? Can't say I blame ye. Looking for anything in particular?"

The Russian shakes his head, his eyes meeting Soap's. "Anything works."

An eyebrow raises at Makarov speaking to him, but the Captain nods in acknowledgment, deciding not to address that, either. "If I look hard enough, I might be able to find something in Russian."

Confusion briefly flashes across Makarov's face; he's probably wondering why Soap is being nice to him. However, he nods as well. "That would be nice. Thank you."

Soap subtly gives Yuri a look that says 'is this the same Makarov?' before heading back to peruse the shelves. Yuri then sits himself and Makarov down at a table.

"I'm surprised how nice you're being today," he jokes.

Makarov shrugs. "I'm too tired to fight."

Yuri wraps an arm around the other's shoulders. "Maybe that's for the best. It would be good to see you all finally get along."

"You're going to have to wait a little longer for that," his lover quips.

"I'll wait as long as it takes," Yuri chuckles.

Soap returns a few seconds later with a book in his hand, and the two Russians stand up.

"Went a lot faster than I thought," Soap comments. Since Makarov is handcuffed like always, the Scotsman hands the book to Yuri.

In Cyrillic, the title reads _'Crime and Punishment'._ Both Yuri's and Makarov's eyes widen. They haven't seen the book in its original language in years.

"Where did you get this?" The former asks, incredulous.

"From our pilot, Nikolai," Soap explains. "It was one of his old books; he said we could have it."

Apparently not finished surprising the other two, Makarov thanks Soap. "I'm grateful, truly."

Soap offers a smile, too taken aback to respond.

Perhaps Yuri won't have to wait very long after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Makarov: fuck now I gotta be nice to him  
> Fun fact: I've only read a summary and the first chapter of Crime and Punishment :') according to the summary it kinda fit with how I'm writing Makarov so I was like "yeah this works" lmao


End file.
